Riku
by Lord Windsor
Summary: After Riku opens the door to darkness, his young mind is faced with the horrors of what exactly darkness can do to you. Riku's side of KH. Subtle AnsemXRiku.
1. I

His eyes wouldn't open. When he tried, when he attempted to reclaim something of light, something that would soothe his burning nerves, he was confronted with a blistering pain. Just a sliver of open lid brought agony, and so his eyes remained willfully blinded. There was no gravity here. No clue pertaining to his location. He must simply be in death, floating blissfully through the unseen.

It was the acknowledgement of death---the thought of no more continuing through battle followed by pain accompanied by fear…---that made his heart relax into something lighter. The talk of hearts was one in vain, for the young boy had too much on his hands involving the tangling of hearts to sympathize with.

Death. At least he should be able to see. Thoughts suddenly crossed his mind with an odd energy. What was his motivation for thought anymore if he was doomed to eternal bliss through a colorless void? But the renewed energy was there, somewhere inside the memory of his body. The energy felt wrong, however, as though it were unwelcome by the promise of emptiness. Certainly the rest of existence was empty; after all, it had left him. In fact, if his memories could keep up with the constant pleasant draining of the life, it was difficult to recall anything of his physical being.

Death was shrinking, and he followed it, watched as the memory of light was closed in by walls of darkness. He watched until the very bane of his existence was left inside a pinpoint spot of white right smack in the middle of a sea of nothingness, and thus his thoughts were extinguished. The white, which was such a color in his mind's eye, pulsed. Whatever conscience remained of the boy thrived for this sensation, and words ceased to come. Words and thoughts were replaced by the rhythmic beating of the white, and the energy, wherever it had been moved to after his body was dispersed by the consuming, black walls, joined the reverie his mind found with this light.

Three joined: Mind, existence, and energy, gravitating around this source of light, whatever it was, be it death or revivification. It held no significance that the most important piece of being was missing. It must have been to the walls of darkness that the child's heart had been lost, for it had yet to prove its presence.

The beautiful picture of harmony, oh, death was so beautiful. A kaleidoscope of the universe was held in his mind's eye, right there in front of him.

_Close enough to touch…_

Immediately, the energy spun out of control, and it was so difficult to follow, for it spun so very quickly. Before the two other forces were able to catch up to the burst of power that replaced the simple energy, the pinpoint of white exploded. Now death had too suddenly been re-defined, for the boy's body collided with his mind in the blinding power with such force that slammed him straight through the walls of darkness.

The balance was upset, the bliss was gone, and panic---utter heart-stopping panic, blood-curdling panic---was beheld all throughout this void. But the emptiness was no more, the walls that had only a second before been perfectly enclosing him in the ring of peace were now eating him alive. The curse of his body returning to him: he was now vulnerable to pain. He could sense the darkness choking him, wrapping him in opaque tendrils, attempting to separate mind from body once again, and he detected the oddity of the movement of this darkness. This darkness was alive, and it wriggled and jolted in a revolting fashion. It jumped all around him, licking him and painting him with its wet stench. This concept slowly floated into his mind, and, once it did, he found himself utterly terrified.

The pain and the emotion and the ideas, they all met with this energy that violently convulsed throughout the everything and, together, they surged through the darkness. The tendrils were ripped away without struggle, the darkness pushed heavily aside by the power of light that was now dominating this death.

It all happened in less than the stroke of a single second, from the moment of peace to the happenstance of discord ripping its way through the black and white blurred edges of emptiness.

And then, his heart returned, and this light was the only real light that had ever been.

He screamed out loud, and the noise blanketed everything. The energy was reunited with himself; the scream continued and it endured. It drained him of everything he had, yet it meant everything in the world that he released now. His voice cracked, and his breathing shuddered, and he screamed some more. The sound was altered now---he was able to recognize his ears now, though the pain of all else rose above such a sensation---and without further thought, he realized he could move.

Yes, his body was all there now, it had been generously returned to him by that strange light. He could feel his legs, his arms, his torso, and his throat, which was now throbbing quite pitifully from the weak screams he had just ceased emitting. Still, he was floating, and he wasn't sure where he had been brought to by the power from the pinpoint of death.

He tried, once again, to open his eyes.

It took all he could muster from his little ball of energy not to scream again, for the pain was much greater than it had been before. He had accomplished the act of wrenching his lids open, but was met with the sharpest, most penetrating light than ever before. The idea that the pinpoint in death, or even the power of the energy, had been anything _close_ to light was now dismissed without further thought. Those were nothing more than imitations of light. Something to entertain him in his nothingness. But this here. This was real, and it hurt like hell.

The moment of seeing did not give the boy any sort of clue to his whereabouts, for whiteness eclipsed anything else that may have been there. But his curiosity was cruel, and it took advantage of him by forcing him to cover his eyes with his hands. Such a pitiful act, having to hold your hands over your eyes because it's too bright. But as such a movement was issued, his arms bent, and new sensations rippled along his arms. Because of that act, he now knew he was underwater. But his curiosity thirsted for more. He must not still be in death because there would be none of that pain. He was thrust out into the water. No wonder he had yet to breathe a satisfying breath.

A goal more important than sight now took over his conscience: dry land. His lungs were emptied with his screams and so he slowly sunk like a heavy rock through the water towards its depths. With sluggish strength, he was able to rock himself into a more upright position. He was startled to feel his head wrench from the surface of the water into glorious air.

Glorious, clean air! Opening his mouth, he meant to inhale but was overcome suddenly with horrible coughs that wracked his body and sent him into convulsions that made him writhe and flail out. Liquid spurted out of his mouth from his lungs and throat, and it was impossible to tell whether it was blood or water.

His left hand, working with the other to keep his head above the water and in the healing air, hit something hard and sturdy. All that registered in his mind was land. This was land.

Pulling himself up onto whatever this structure was, his coughs turned to dry heaves. Pain was coursing through his body, yet he had never felt so relieved. He had saved himself from death…. successfully pulled himself away from whatever the darkness had been planning for him and into this… this air! He could breathe now, but each inhalation was shallow and quick. Bent over on the land with his knees, elbows, and forehead kissing the surface, his ears recognized the sound of waterfalls. Multiple waterfalls surrounding him on all sides, from the noise. Where was he? The curiosity would never relinquish its hold, and so he did as it told him and clamped the palms of his gloved hands down over his eyes.

This time when his eyelids slowly parted, the pain was greatly lessened. Squinting as hard as he could through his fingers while still keeping his eyes open, he raised his head from the ground and gazed forward.

The light, he had been mistaken, was not white but blue. Wonder overtook his senses at the phenomenon before him. The waterfalls… were backwards. In fact, waterfall was an inadequate name for them since they weren't falling at all, but rising. He stood, stumbling once but catching himself, and slowly turned in a circle. He was right in his thinking that the falls surrounded him, for he found himself in some sort of circular chasm in the ground. The water below was not deep at all, for as it was so clear, he could see straight to the bottom. The surface he found himself on turned out to be a stalagmite, and there were many more throughout the area.

Blinking quickly, his cerulean eyes strengthened, and he trusted himself enough with the pain to slowly drop his hands from his face. Struck by the burst of energy again, he spun around, and with wonder, observed everything again, eyes wide. Maybe he was wrong after all. Maybe this was the afterlife. He'd never been anywhere as beautiful, as serene as this rift in the ground with the rising waterfalls.

His sense of boyish exploration suddenly kicked in, and before he could get better acquainted with his surroundings, he was hit with the uncontrollable desire to see more. What was above this haven? his mind persisted. He quickly and stealthily hopped from one stalagmite to another, ascending, ascending, until the stalagmites rose out of the water and were simply floating free in the air. He jumped, his energy completely his own now, until he landed upon a flatter surface make of stone.

Here, he paused. He was at the top of the falls, and before him lay a castle of indescribable proportions. It was separated from him by what looked like sky. Everything here was floating, floating in nothingness. Panting and swallowing, the boy wiped his mouth and planted his hands on his hips. Such a decrepit but beautiful place that seemed so empty… did all this belong to him?

_Riku._

His eyes widened and, without warning, terrible memories flooded his conscience.

He'd been opening the door…. The door! The door in the cave…! To explore the worlds with the raft… The voices, oh, that man who, for days now, had been in the corner of his eye, constantly watching him, following him. _Talking to him._ Plaguing him with ideas involving _the darkness._ The door.

The door to darkness.

_Welcome to Hollow Bastion, Riku._

It was the same voice, still following him, still there. It was probably watching him right this moment.

Finding his own voice, he looked all around, desperate for some form that could accompany that haunting anonymous being. There was nothing but the falls and the stalagmites. Not even the far-off castle gates held any dark beings of suspicion.

"Who are you?!" he shouted, voice hoarse. "Show yourself!"

An amicable chuckle.

_Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you._

He was certain this voice could not be heard outside his head, for the noise sounded nothing like the sound of his footsteps or the background rumble of the rising falls. He wished, now more than ever, he had his stupid wooden sword that he'd trained with so vigilantly back on the islands that he came from. He felt so naked unarmed with nothing but his fists.

The laughter rang out throughout his skull, and he now spoke a bit quieter.

"How do you know my name?"

Now there was no reply.

A breeze blew at his back and gently pushed his long silver hair into his face. Whipping his head back, he cleared his vision with a stern look and a grimace at the nothing in front of him. All right; he'd be patient with this bastard. He brought his fists together and cracked his knuckles. The menacing noise brought him comfort, as though he wasn't completely helpless.

His breathing slowed after a few minutes of silence. He finally dropped his arms back down at his side and stood, glaring disbelief at the chasm of sky before him. So now the man chose to leave, after Riku had asked a personal question. Of course. He sighed as loneliness struck him. The peace of the environment barely managed to cover the fact that, all in all, this place was very sad.

"Well? Are you going to turn around?"

He let out an audible gasp and spun around, heart jumping out of his chest at the surprise. What he was met with was a tall, thin man of dark complexion and silvery hair, similar to his own. Riku spat out an expletive and crouched into an instinctual battle stance, feeling like an animal backed into a corner with nowhere to run.

The man chuckled once more and smiled kindly, as though he were after friendship. He held up his palms in truce, not revealing anything that resembled a weapon. His bright gold eyes bore themselves straight into Riku's blue ones and he spoke again.

"Neither of us has a weapon, Riku. Just relax. I know what you're after."

"What am I after?!" Riku cried in reply. "Who are you? You never answered my question!"

"My name…" said the man with an air of importance, seeming as though he'd given off his title with much practice beforehand, "is Ansem, seeker of darkness."

It must have had the desired effect the man was looking for, as Riku found this epithet disturbing. His memory brought up in his mind's eye the image of the darkness, the everlasting darkness, strangling him in the void of death. It had been… only moments before now that his survival had almost not occurred at all. Strangling him… tying him up… _licking_ him… The shiver that coursed through his body was received by Ansem with a smile.

"And I know," he continued pleasantly, "that you are Riku, the fallen keyblade master who chose to accept the darkness."

"I didn't accept it!" Riku interrupted, panic playing on the edges of his voice as the feeling of darkness's cold embrace lingered on his skin.

Ansem started forward, and Riku backed up, eyes caught on his outstretched hand, looking ready to snatch the boy up. However, Riku's foot graced the edge of the cliff, and a loose pebble falling into the vast stretch of emptiness was more than enough warning to him that he should steer clear of the edge.

With this thought, his eyes darted back up to Ansem. The man was very suddenly an inch from his face, and before Riku could do anything, let alone gasp in surprise, his face was covered and his mind was lost.

* * *

**A/N - **Yeah, you knew that was Riku and that was Ansem, huh? Please review. I mean, really. This is the first serious fanfiction I've ever attempted that's not a parody.


	2. II

**A/N**: My friend and I once created a Kingdom Hearts drinking game. For every time the word "darkness" is spoken, you drink. Who gets hammered first? :D

* * *

He simply couldn't run fast enough. Whatever he imagined as being his legs would not obey him, and the ground beneath his eyes was slowing and speeding up at irregular intervals.

His mind wasn't working properly. His head was throbbing, his heart racing, his stomach churning. His eyes did not see the metal-lined walls framing the never-ending corridors or the steam-gushing pipes jutting out of every other nook and cranny in the floor and ceiling. Nor was he able to detect the eerie silence, broken only by his padding feet upon the stone floor. The walls were cold and hard, yet they had a certain life to them, and the entire building seemed to breathe.

Exasperation caught up with him as, guided by the fire-lit walls, he ran full on into a dead end. Stopping himself by hitting the wall with his bare arm, he paused for only a brief moment. His eyes scanned the vicinity in a craze, but the creature who'd been stalking him was not seen.

So he kept running, pushing himself off the wall and launching towards the opposite direction in full speed, skidding around the corner. The lanterns on the wall each flickered as he blew past them, some going out completely and leaving a pocket of shadow spreading across the ground. Riku's eyes saw nothing as he pushed himself forward, only desire to escape this godforsaken maze of twisting tunnels and playful shadows. In truth, he was terrified, and this panic was all that drove him back to the water in the pit of rising falls. He had it in his mind that returning to whatever portal lay down there would send him back home, to his islands.

But… that wasn't what he wanted.

He hit another dead end and cursed aloud. It was as though this place was altering itself to purposefully trap him it its clutches. If he would at least spot a doorway, he'd have some hope of escaping this nightmare.

Sinking to the ground, he hugged himself and bowed his head to his chest, catching his breath.

Then it reappeared, the demon in black, and it had him caught between these three grinning walls. It had him with nowhere else to run, and he fought his own weakness that begged him to back up into a corner and go down without struggle, and he'd hope there'd be little in the way of pain. He wouldn't even grace the monster with his broken gaze, wouldn't yield to the temptation of battle when he knew it was already all lost.

He only felt the creature and felt only the creature. It was soundless and noiseless, and it floated with such calm serenity that greatly foiled Riku's jerky shudders. Looming ever closer, the crooked grin that it wore was large and empty, sucking in dry air to whatever vortex it was made from; its charred yellow eye sockets fixed on the boy's pathetic huddle.

It was the smell, the reeking, nauseous, vile stench that emanated out of every crack and crevasse of this monster that pushed Riku's head further into his arms, burying his nose into his own un-intimidating skin. The ball pressed itself up against his knees suddenly, nudging the top of his head curiously with its gnarled appendages. Its movements were agonizingly slow, but no matter whether or not the rancid ball of darkness wished harm upon him or was simply interested in Riku's presence, he was too stubborn to exit this position of being curled into himself, as it promised certain safety.

The thing emitted a strange sound, then, something like a cry of pain although Riku had done nothing to it except play helpless victim. The noise compelled him to lift his head slightly, giving it a wary look. Apparently, the noise was nothing more than an odd black steam being released from a pocket of--what else?--darkness.

Disbelief colored Riku's expression. Had he ever _left_ death? This being that stood before him, nuzzling him with a sick affection, it was pure darkness, that he could obviously make out. The steam, it was also darkness. Was this darkness plaguing him? And why? Perhaps, the thought came to his mind, because he should never have abandoned it in the first place. The way the light had cruelly ripped him away from darkness's clutches, maybe he should have stayed. Perhaps that was where he belonged: stuck in the sea of blind, unrelenting darkness, forever floating in ignorant bliss.

The darkness, as it caressed him, attached itself to his being, and his everything was quickly filled with nothing. Violet hues of uncertainty pervaded his blank mind, but the feelings and emotions accompanied with life were absent. It was as though with no light, there could not even be life.

Was it, then, this thought that attracted the other forces of darkness to Riku's small form? For they came; in multiple rows, they plowed powerfully toward him, the small wriggling creatures composed entirely of shadows. As with the larger ball, their eyes glowed mischievously and locked onto his, as his head was entirely raised. It was fitting, after all, that he may as well watch as he became, again, consumed by the darkness. They were all upon him, and he was again defenseless. His body was far too weak to counter this predicament, proven subconsciously by the widening of his eyes and the premature wincing of an already destroyed heart.

It was just like on Destiny Islands, they way they came. But back there, standing on the shores of his home, he'd been immune to their stares. It'd been Sora, his friend _Sora,_ who had acted as magnet to their attacks. He simply watched as his friend attempted to survive, simply chuckled as his friend found himself unable to protect himself, but it was not with disdain. They… they should have been partners, after all. They'd been partners their whole life, growing up together as best friends. Sora, he'd been like Riku's younger brother.

What happened to him? To their islands?

The shadows converged upon him, breaking the pretense that all they were looking for was an answer to who this intruder was. Riku must have been proven guilty as an outsider, someone who obviously wasn't welcome because the creatures were ruthless. They covered him, suffocated him, their heavy bodies pressing down on him from all sides. Like nothing had changed, like he was still dead…

"Wake up."

A witch's claw reached through the storm of shadows and roughly pulled him by the shirt collar out of the black mess. Wherever the mysterious hand had came from, it yanked him without struggle, and he sifted through the many jerking monsters with ease as though they were nothing but smoke.

Again his face found the surface of the water, guided this time not by the burst of light, but by this woman's sharp fingernails digging into the back of his neck. He gasped and his eyes sprang open, but to find not beautiful waterfalls, instead a low, dim ceiling framing the face of a rather nasty looking hag.

"If you have dreams of yourself being weak, then it's no wonder the keyblade left your side." Her lips were moving slower than the words hit Riku's ears, and he blinked, chin jutting forward at the slight pain of the woman's fingernails still lodged in the skin of his neck.

She wrenched her fingers away and turned from his view, exposing the unsightly black horns protruding from the back of her scalp.

"Get yourself to the front hall," she barked emotionlessly at him.

And with that, the witch slipped out of his room.

"Wait…!" Riku called to her back. She expected him to know where this front hall was, and if his dreams told him anything, it told him he wasn't the best at directions. The door slammed shut loudly behind her. He rose from the hard floor, taking a good look around, notably calmer now than he had been in his dream.

Some treatment, he thought while glaring at the door, for someone who'd just saved himself from death. He thought it'd be quite appropriate for a grand celebration. Perhaps he should become a celebrity, starring all over the news, grinning down at all those poor unenlightened people who've never seen the darkness and the light struggling before their very eyes.

It was this thought that provided him with sudden confidence, a pride that allowed him to open the door and trek down the hallways that so closely mirrored the maze in his dreams straight to the front hall without any obstacle where he was confronted with his less-than-friendly witch comrade and his kidnapper at the peak of the rising falls.

* * *

**Erm** sorry about the much shorter length compared to the first chapter. I haven't been feeling too well today or yesterday. :X I hope the whole thing didn't sound too abrupt. I'm pretty out of it, you see. R&R.


	3. III

Riku's feet clamored loudly against the floor, so if ever the thought of a subtle entrance entered his mind, it was quickly eclipsed by the ruckus his shoes were instigating. The noise made him grimace, for he was pretty damn sure he'd been nowhere near this loud in his dream. Yet he walked casually, not appearing perturbed by the foreign everything, not showing an ounce of surprise as he emerged into a grand atrium, and expressing nothing in the way of fear as his eyes fell upon the golden-eyed creature of shadows dancing a few feet away from him, monitoring his entrance with quick cocks of the head and fiery rubbing of his hands (if the spindly stubs could be referred to as hands) together.

This all was exposed, but deep behind his cool blue eyes, he studied the monster with a feral loathing, and his hands clenched, but it was all he could do to remain composed in the gaze of the witch who stood tall beside the thing. She must be a witch, he concluded, because no one had such a hairstyle as black horns, and no one wore such draping cloaks anymore that ran past their shoes and were reminiscent of a crow's thick feathers. She turned slightly to face him head on, and he was faced with her empty yellow eyes. If met with the opportunity, it was without a doubt that she'd throw her head back and bellow the ugliest laughter that, Riku could only imagine, would freeze him straight to his core.

Thus, she began to laugh, but it was of a different breed from the maniacal howling that he'd predicted. It was more of a titter. And she brought her long claws to her chest, where they met happily, and opened her mouth.

She taunted, "Quick on your feet, boy, aren't you?" in her low, cruel voice.

But Riku wouldn't play the fool again by asking naïve questions. He crossed his arms and kept his face wiped clean of any visible thoughts. Nonchalantly, he slowly glanced about the large room, eyes pausing on the water fountain set between the winding stairs to the upper balcony. They stayed there, staring at the water falling correctly down into the small pool below.

The monster was now restless, and it began scurrying on all fours around the base of the witch's robes, head never ceasing its disgusting twitches and jerks.

Not giving her the courtesy of his gaze, he replied, "If Kairi's here, I wanna see her." He continued watching as the water fell peacefully from the spigot, barely making a sound as it pushed and rolled into the lower basin.

"Kairi?" Her tone grew slightly musical. "Oh my, but there are so many more important things to be worrying about!" Her smile widened, and her eyes froze on his face.

This stare provoked Riku's interest, and as the goose bumps trickled down his arms, his eyes reluctantly flashed to hers and the fear seeped back into his soul. With much tension, he said "What could be more important than Kai--"

But immediately as he breathed out the first syllable of her name, the blade of a sword plunged through his back, and it twisted itself around his insides, and the silver tip emerged out his chest with his eyes, suddenly wider and whiter than the glaring sun, clapping down upon it. His world was thrust forward with the movement of the weapon, and his breath would not come, would not fill him, would not obey his dying wish of greeting him one last time. His arms thrown out at his sides, the atrium exploded and the witch continued staring at him with the same complacent smile and stare.

His head fell back, and his hair slipped down his neck and tickled the top of the blade. He stared up and his eyes caught the life leaving him, and it was oh-so abrupt how his heart left his chest, being pulled up by wisps of white and violet. His mouth was slack, the faint whisper of final breath lingering at the edge of his lips. He watched as his heart raised into the sky, watched as it disappeared into the darkness, and the sight left his eyes and all he watched then was black and white swim together as one.

A large hand gently pushed against the back of his shoulder in the act of removing the sword, but his appearance never entered Riku's vision, for his mind had escaped him once more. It floated after his runaway heart, longing to rejoin with it, but the plea was denied and his soul rebounded to the cold, hard floor. His eyes finally shut, nothing left inside him, no thought, no mind, no heart.

And thus, death came once again.

Oh, death… How you've always been there, waiting to catch the poor child as he launched himself back into the land of the living. How you knew he'd gone up without enough air, held on by weak strings, and the darkness, it had tampered with it. The darkness: his fatal flaw, the force that had pulled him right back down into its mouth.

The walls of wriggling black built themselves back up, one by one, gravitating about the orb of light. But in this circumstance, the peace was gone. In fact, this death was most certainly nothing like the "death" Riku had experienced last time. Was it that his conscience came with him? The fact that his body was present with his mind, the way he held control over himself unlike when, before, the two forces had drifted apart and left a wide emptiness between that quickly allowed false bliss to seep in and fill the gaps between power and serenity?

Death, how you've been overestimated. Without such a bliss, it's obvious that power dominates.

The monster that played innocently at Maleficent's feet turned its large eyes towards the corpse of the sweet boy as it was flung forward to the ground. Jutting its head out slightly with wonder, it followed the boy as he hit the ground with a loud smack, head bouncing off stone, gashing the forehead, but not otherwise injuring him any further, for it was obvious Riku was gone.

The second after the child fell, the kingdom keyblade clattered against the ground behind him, yet its owner was unseen. There was no blood staining its wonderful sheen. The dark creature froze its twitching and witnessed the pool of swirling black lick its way around the body, confining it to its being and absorbing it into its depths, and it then witnessed the event of the evening: The swirling mass did not retreat, but strengthen, and as the body disappeared, so came in its place a hulking creature. Great and lean, the small shadow on the ground tilted its head back to see to the top of its new friend's head.

The Invisible gazed down upon his Shadow inferior and clutched its huge sword in his right hand, raising it back, power visibly coursing through its body, the wisps of black still clinging lovingly to his arms, legs, and torso, and then he whipped the weapon at Maleficent's head.

Death was gleaming with a new light, and the hand of the boy being passed through to the dark raised wearily toward it to snatch it out of the void. All began spinning faster as the energy thrived and pumped.

The shell blinked around Maleficent's still body and immediately reciprocated the sword, flinging it away where it collided with the fountain. Water spat every out of the smashed stone, hitting the Invisible through the hole where its heart may have claimed to once rest.

The water poured in at all sides of the death, and it was quite obvious then that this was hardly a death at all. Riku's being pushed back against the water, and his eyes were wide open, wide not with fear but with strength, and with ease, he pulled himself to his feet. The walls did not crash, but back away, and the light did not fade, but it grew. It grew and Riku ran, he ran from the light, he dived into the darkness, the walls that eyed him ferociously. He launched himself into their confines, and he felt himself regain his breath. He looked down and he saw his hands; he looked up and saw the light clearing out the dark. No matter what, it was moving away from him, and the confusion, how it tore at him!

Such a small body standing at the pit of eternity's struggle. His body was anything but unable, and it was, at last, his strength, above all else, that saved his life again.

The Shadow slunk away from his friend, the Invisible, as the larger of the two monsters began ripping at his heart, water leaking from the hole, with horrid rage. His heart was returning to him, and thus the replacement, the creature of darkness felt this and knew this. He ripped, ripped away at his empty heart, head thrown back, knees buckling. The witch raised a thin brow and drummed her fingers on her staff once, allowing the lesson to be taught.

The Shadow, scared senseless, it would seem, absorbed itself into the ground and swam back towards its master, hiding behind her elegant outfit. The witch herself bore her eyes emotionlessly into the eyes of the monster, and she watched as those empty yellow sockets returned themselves to the sea of beautiful cerulean.

It was darkness that rose from his newly returned body, however, and this sight was as Maleficent had wanted, yet her interest never once wavered as she watched the birth and demise of Riku's heartless.

"Your strength…" the words came at Riku's ear, breath at the back of Riku's neck, and his sharpened senses allowed him to place the deep, delicate voice. The Seeker of Darkness.

"Your strength, my sweet boy…" Those soft words were different and met Riku at his front, for they came from the old witch's mouth. There was no one behind him.

"… desirable, at the very least." She took very carefully crafted steps toward him, then stopped and raised her arms into the air. Yes, this was the laugh that he'd heard in his thoughts, and the witch certainly belted it. The laughter rose near the end, resembling the caw of a crow with its edge.

Riku was shaking. Darkness was still rising from his skin, and, while he could still breathe, it was hard for him to feel his heart in his chest, for it felt cold. "That… that wasn't death, was it?" he spoke, voice quivering.

Her laughter cut off abruptly and she composed herself with a flourish of her staff in the air. "Anyone who could ever imagine returning from the realm of darkness and reclaiming their soul from their personal heartless twice, let alone successfully accomplish such an impossible task…." She held her palm out in the air, laying horizontally parallel to the floor. Many more shadows, at this silent command, generated around her and the original, smaller shadow. "Anyone with such expertise… belongs under my command."

His breath quickened and his fists clenches, ready for anything to happen, anything to jump at him. "Are you gonna stab me again, old hag?!" he spat at her. He scanned the place for anything that would aid him in a quick exit.

Her brows rose again. "Are you thinking about running away, Riku…?" The monsters surrounding her all bobbed back and forth in unison, their heads rolling like a sea in a storm.

His glare was tangible. "I don't even know where the _hell_ I am or who the hell you're supposed to be!!" he retorted, now backing up slowly towards the large door at his back.

"My name, Riku, is Maleficent," she said as her chin raised proudly, "and I'll be called as such whilst you remain here with me in Hollow Bastion. Now," she paused, "I can see the fear in your eyes. And I'm hoping that the great talent you displayed in working your way back to your body wasn't just… a ruse, a panic-induced spurt that'll never be seen again." Her tone, which had gone black, suddenly turned lighter. "I can also see your sad attempt at leaving, and I'll have you know there are heartless behind every door of this castle, lingering behind every turn. While you may be thinking you're safe from harm, be quite aware that if you ever defy me--"

He broke her off, pointing warily at the army of Shadows. "That's called a heartless?" Their eyes… their long fingers… _choking him, gripping him, licking him…_

"Oh yes. Can you not identify with them? After all, for a few moments, you'd joined their ranks as one of them!" And she threw her head back and howled her laughter again, the Shadows stirring excitedly at the noise, the waves in the sea gaining height in the gusts.

A thousand pairs of yellow eyes were upon him as he stood dumbfounded, at a loss for words. One of them? Instead of death, he inferred, he'd been… one of _them_. A heartless. Shooting his gaze downward, he lifted a hand and placed it over his heart. There, it was beating, but still cold. And the black wisps that rose from the army, they rose from his skin like a low fire, consuming him. He had to escape. But then--

"Riku?!"

Oh, that voice! He spun around, and there he was: Sora, his best friend in all his glory, standing there casually at the entrance of the grand hall.

"Where've you been, Riku? I've been looking all over for you!" His childish cheeks pushed his mouth into a small pout and his arms crossed, but it was all good-natured.

Riku's thoughts were suddenly replaced by excitement, and doubt never entered his mind pertaining to why Sora would ever be here in this pit of hell. Still, he couldn't help but take a step toward him, face alight, but as he did so, as he blinked, his friend was gone.

"The new keyblade master. He is your friend, is he not?" It was Maleficent in Sora's place, smiling down at him, eyes gleaming. Riku choked back a gasp and, instead, let out a low growl.

"What have you done to him?! Where is he? Where's Kairi? What do you WANT with me?" And with a final frustrated cry, he charged straight toward Maleficent, fists raised high, and slugged her square in the face. Her cheek was forced to the side, and she stumbled backwards, arms out to her sides, but he'd have hurt her more if it wasn't for the heartless that converged.

They jumped him, swarming over his body and pushing him to the ground. They emitted odd swishing noises that he could only assume was their battle call as they lashed at him, all on top of him A loud blast blew them away quickly, however, and the witch was standing above him, glowering down at him with a horrid expression.

"I'll forgive you this time, you little brat!" At that, she turned with a swish of her cloak, and marched toward the curving stairwell on the opposite side of the room. "But for now, get OUT of my sight!"

His opportunity: Riku hopped to his feet stealthily, and, without giving the old hag a backwards glance, rushed from the room. He sprinted back down the long stone corridor from which he'd first came though, and, while blindly turning, for speed mattered more than thought at a time like this, he fortuitously and foolishly threw himself straight into the mouth of a waiting portal of darkness.

* * *

**Hee~ **I'm philosophical. :B

So this chapter was a bit of a doozy to write. I wasn't sure where to end it, and I had a list of things I wanted to happen before the end, and I _almost_ made it. You can probably tell I'm straying from the canonical story since (according to the KH wiki) Maleficent was supposed to be very friendly towards Riku when they meet. But hey, I hate friendly, so I'm declaring artistic liscense and making Maleficent and Ansem (yes, that was Ansem) nearly kill Riku. It's one of those "proof of strength" things. :D


End file.
